


Just Playing the Game

by Hyperspacial



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pining, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperspacial/pseuds/Hyperspacial
Summary: Bobby and MC win Love Island and leave ready to start their lives together. At least, that's what Bobby thought had happened...
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie & Main Character (Love Island)
Kudos: 12





	Just Playing the Game

The air was sticky, but not as sticky as his brow. He swiped at his forehead, clinging to MC with his other arm. The sky was starting to brighten again with a new morning, and Bobby didn’t know whether to be excited or heartbroken.

MC spoke quickly to Chelsea, nodding emphatically, but he couldn’t listen to her words. She was so beautiful. Even with her makeup from the night before settling into her face, eyeliner rubbed out of place, and her bare feet dirty from the grass, she was everything he wanted. Mid-sentence, she glanced over at him. A cheesy smile spread across his face, and she repeated his name.

“Sorry, what?” 

Chelsea giggled and MC half smiled, reaching over and running her hand through his dreads idly. 

“Chels and I were going to our hotel room for the rest of the day so we can sleep before our flight tomorrow. I asked if you’d already been de-miced?”

“No, I think Alex asked me to keep my mic pack on until we left.”

“Ok, well, Chels and I are leaving.”

Bobby shook his head suddenly, realizing what was happening, finally accepting that the night was coming to an end. The summer was coming to an end. As disappointing as that was, he couldn’t wait to start his life with MC. His life with MC, the house, the kids, the garden, the tire swing, their own tiny world to share. 

As Bobby bounded over to one of the producers, he couldn’t help but gaze back at MC. Chelsea and her were chatting again, but MC was looking out in front of him. He followed her eyes and noticed Alex, one of the producers. Alex stood in a group of others, but was staring back at MC. As Bobby approached, he pointedly glanced back and forth between MC and Alex. When MC caught Bobby’s eyes, she smiled and blew him a kiss. By the time he turned back to the producers, he was no longer looking, speaking amongst the other producers in a hushed tone. They stopped when Bobby walked over, and ushered him into one of the trailers. 

An assistant pulled the mic pack off of him and unwrapped the cord. After a brief goodbye to some of the film crew, he jogged back over to MC and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She didn’t say anything but gently rubbed his forearms. 

“So where’s the hotel? It’s weird to not be heading back into the villa…”

“They’ve had cabs running back and forth all night,” Chelsea jumped in. “Elisa texted

that they’re not nearly as nice as the villa. But everything’s gonna seem like that for a while, right? Like that’s such a high bar.”

Bobby chuckled and kissed the back of MC’s neck before pulling away, “we’ll make it work, something tells me it won’t be an issue.” When MC didn’t turn to him, he kissed her cheek gently.

As they all packed into the backseat of the shuttle, they fell into a comfortable silence. Bobby held MC’s palm with both his hands and gently rubbed, savoring her head on his shoulder. Chelsea became absorbed with her phone- finally her own personal phone and not the limited-feature models that they were issued for the show. Every now and then she’d gasp and exchange a look with MC.

When they arrived, the driver gave them each a room key. Bobby chuckled and took it, waving it at MC and joked “silly that they booked one for everyone, they could’ve just asked. Mine or yours?”

MC blushed, pulling her suitcase up the curb. Chelsea looked between them, started to say something, then dove into the back of the cab for her own bags. 

“Actually Bobby, Chels and I were going to share a room. I won’t be seeing her for a while since Buckinghamshire is so far, and we both want to dig into all the tweets about the show.”

Bobby frowned, dropping his hand and tucking the key into his shorts, “Oh. Okay. I just thought since this was our last night together after the villa-”

“Plus we have to get up at different times tomorrow. You’re flying into Glasglow, and I’m headed to New Castle. I wouldn’t want to wake you up.”

“Surely Chelsea’s not going through New Castle…” He trailed off. MC made no move to respond, so he sucked in a breath and plastered a smile on his face, “Of course. I get it, girl time before heading home. Let me help you with that.” He walked over and pulled the rest of the luggage out of the car. He helped them port the bags up to Chelsea’s room. Chelsea threw her bags across the floor and immediately jumped on the bed.

“Babes, can you pull the curtains- it’s too bright in here.” MC laughed gently and replied, “In a minute.”

She set down her own bags and stepped out of the room, where Bobby was lingering.

His lip stuck out as he sulked a bit, arms crossed and staring at the ground.

“Oh, come off it,” MC quietly giggled, “You’re going to pout because we’re not doing bits before heading to the airport?” 

Bobby broke into a smile and pulled her to his chest, rocking gently as he held her close. “I’m not pouting, I’m just sad that I don’t get to wake up next to you.” MC gently kissed his temple, then pulled away.

“I don’t know what I’m worried about, we’ll see each other plenty at home. Sunderland’s only a couple hours train ride away. There’ll be plenty of time to fall asleep together at,” he glanced at his watch “7:30am”. 

She didn’t say anything and lightly kissed him again. 

“I love you,” he murmured before deepening the kiss. She smiled into it, paused for a moment, then pulled away. 

“Love you too, Bobby.” 

As she turned back to the room, he caught her wrist and pulled her in for one more kiss. After, he slowly opened his eyes and looked down at her face. Her eyes were still closed as she gently held his shoulders. 

“Call me when your flight lands, I want to know you got home safe.”

She nodded and pecked him again before heading into the hotel room, meeting his eyes one more time and offering a thin smile before shutting the door. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**  
  
** He held out as long as he could, but a few weeks of radio silence had him finally checking her social media. Scrolling through, post after post of her interacting with fans, a few sneak peeks at upcoming photoshoots, and a bunch of pictures of her and Priya. She had already visited Priya on the weekend, but couldn’t even return his calls? That didn’t bother him as much as her bantering with fans, acting like nothing was wrong. Those were total strangers, complete nobodies that she had the energy and time to interact with. But she wasn’t even opening his texts anymore. **  
**

He refrained from dm’ing her. If she wanted to talk, she would. Some salty part of him wanted to, just to quip about if that was the way to get through to her. But that was more about letting her know he saw her activity and trying to guilt her than anything else, so he stopped himself. He didn’t want to be annoyed with her, he wanted her to call him back. But she wouldn’t. Everything was wrong and no one saw it. No one saw him.

So Bobby tried to go back to normal. And in bursts, he was able to. Once he got focused on a project at work or invested in a good conversation, he forgot about the way her skin felt on his lips. The way her body fit perfectly against his. The sweet smell of her shampoo. 

Most of the time, the dull ache ate away at him in between the distractions. A yearning for either her presence or some form of closure.

**  
  
  
** Bobby was nearly a whole wine bottle deep when he sent that former message. After weeks of trying to convince himself that she still loved him, he was finally furious. Everything they had planned, everything she had said, just evaporated for no reason? From what he could tell, it wasn’t that she was cheating on him. Although, it’s not as if she’d be very open about it if she was. And it’s not as if he could really consider it cheating at this point. **  
**

He answered immediately, pulling the phone up to his ear too fast and smacking himself in the side of the head. Rubbing his head and mumbling to himself, he missed the sentence that she had immediately launched into once he picked up.

“-s not like that, you know?”

She paused for a moment, and he took the opportunity to say “What?”

“I was just saying- oh. I… It’s really nice to hear your voice, Bobby.”

A million thoughts bubbled up in response to that but none of them were able to penetrate the haze surrounding his mind. He was still angry. As much as he ached for her, he was furious and righteous in that fury.

“Well whose fault is that?” He slurred a bit on the second word, blinking and shaking his head until the sentence was managed. Then Bobby reached for the wine that he’d been drinking out of a coffee mug.

“What?? Bobby, are you drunk? It’s only 8.”

“Why do you care?” He tried to stand up, for no reason in particular, just wanting to do something with the energy and anger that was building up. Stumbling back, he fell back onto the couch and spilled some of the crimson beverage onto his jumper. 

“I… I still care, Bobby. You’re my friend.”

He snorted and then laughed sardonically, putting the mug onto the side table and forcing himself to stand up again, successfully this time. Friend. The word soured in his ear. Two months of kissing, cuddling, talking about their future, even doing bits, and they were friends. Yeah, all the people commenting on her promotional posts asking ‘where’s Bobby?’ thought they were just friends. His parents, who had texted him on the show and off that they were excited to meet MC, thought she and Bobby were just friends. He wanted to scream ‘I wanted to marry you’, to demand to know what changed, to hurl insults at her, but most of all to cry. He opted for the later, tears silently rolling down his face. Before he got a chance to do anything more, MC continued. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow when you sober up. I get off work around 5:20pm, does that work for you?”

He mumbled something and started walking towards the kitchen in search of a towel to try and salvage his sweater.

“Bobby. Does that work for you?”

Maybe he was just being stubborn because he was hurt, but he huffed into the phone.

“Okay. Well. I’m going to call you at 5:30pm tomorrow. You can decide to pick up or not. Good night, Bobby.”

“Piiiiiss off, I’m not a child!” He shouted, but she’d hung up before he started the first word. When he made it to the kitchen he grabbed a dish rag off the stove. He sat cross legged on the floor, dabbed at his jumper, and wept. 

As he got up the next morning and got ready for work, he didn’t want to wait for her. Part of him wanted to ignore her entirely and let her call go to voicemail.

But a smaller, quieter part of him turned his call volume all the way up. Kept his phone in his front apron pocket all day. Set it on the counter face up when he was making dinner. Even as he sat back and watched TV to unwind, the dark screen was lurking in the corner of his vision. He caught himself periodically picking it up, unlocking it, and staring at it blankly before putting it back down. He didn’t want to be so desperate for her.

She called much later then she said she would. It was almost 11:00pm when his ringtone blared in his starkly silent apartment. He shook the sleep out of his eyes, unsure if he’d been dozing off or just spacing out, and picked up.

The line was silent. He waited a beat before saying, “MC?”

“Hey Bobby, I’m glad you picked up.”

All at once, the anger flooded back to him. How dare she ghost him for months, and then when she finally bothers to call him expect him to speak first. She couldn’t even afford him the dignity of not enduring awkward phone silence. That smaller part of his mind pointed out that it wasn’t possible he was so enraged over such a dumb thing, but it seemingly broke the dam.

“Was it all a fucking lie? I never took you for a liar but maybe that’s the point, you’re such a good one I couldn’t spot it when we were sharing a bed.” His fury had never been so cold before. It was like a curtain fell and suddenly he was in control, his voice low and eyes flashing. His normal fidgeting hands and flushed face gave way to rooting himself to his spot on the couch, stiffening until his jaw might’ve shattered from how tightly it was clenched.

“Bobby- I-” she was clearly shocked by his change in demeanor, fumbling through a couple sentences before landing on “what do you even think I lied about?”

He didn’t mean for it to happen, but a sardonic laugh tumbled out of him.

“Really? You don’t know? You held me close, smiled at me, and agreed when I said I wanted you to meet my family. That if, no when, we got married we’d buy a little cottage and you’d fill the windowsills with perennials because that’s what your mom used to do. That if we had kids you wanted to have a boy first and then a girl so the boy would look after her. And now, the second that the camera’s are off, you refuse to speak to me.”

“That’s exactly the- Bobby, I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t even want- I… I want to see you. I was hoping we could plan a weekend trip, and we could sort everything out then.”

“What makes you think I want to see you?”

She took a deep, audible breath, held it, then exhaled loudly.

“I guess nothing. If that’s really what you’re set on, I guess this is it then.”

He paused for a moment, so emboldened by his resentment but not enough to completely ignore the reality of the situation. For months he’d wanted to see her face to face and talk it out, at the very least get some semblance of closure. Would he throw that away just to maintain the moral high ground?

She let the line go silent for a few more moments before interrupting his thoughts.

“If that’s what you want to do, I get it. I deserve it. But I’ll give you time to think about it. I’m free this weekend., so if you want I can road trip down to see you. But the next week I’m headed to Amsterdam for a photoshoot, and my schedule gets really busy after that. I just think it’s important that we talk, I haven’t been-”

He hung up before she finished, staring down at the blinking *call ended* screen. With a guttural shout he threw the phone across the room, then froze.

In all his years, when he got angry he cried. He scribbled on paper. He kneaded some bread. He’d never been destructive in anger before and he couldn’t help but blame it on MC. She had no idea what she was doing to him, how thoroughly she’d wrecked him. Tears streamed down his face and Bobby pulled his knees up to his chest.

Without thinking about it, he escalated into rocking back and forth, gasping for breath between sobs and repeating, almost chanting, “I don’t want to be broken, I don’t want to be broken, I don’t want to be broken…” The mantra was both grounding him and sending him further spiraling. In the moment, he didn’t care which effect won out.

After three days of intermittent napping, crying, and blankly staring at the wall, Bobby missed a shift at work. He hadn’t the energy to retrieve the phone from where it had landed, but chalked it up to being anxious that the device was broken. He didn’t have the desire to get up and make food, and even though the logical part of him knew that was bad. He just couldn’t get it to register as important. His worried coworkers’ calls went to voicemail after loudly ringing. 

On Tuesday, for no real reason, he suddenly got the courage to fetch his phone. Maybe it was the growing pile of garbage, or the sheen of sweat covering his body, but he just needed to move. He cleared the missed calls and text message notifications without reading them, and quickly ordered food delivery. He wasn’t so much considering what he wanted, just numbly going through the motions of what he used to like.

When the bell rang he retrieved the bag and towed it back to the sunken spot in the loveseat. Bobby spared a snicker at the ironic name, before slumping down into his place and digging out a container of food. After a second cursory glance to the bottom of the bag, he noted they hadn’t included forks of any kind, and began eating the fried rice with his fingers, leaning over the open bag.

At some point, he pulled up Netflix and selected Love Island Season 2. Staring at the preview screen, it took him a few minutes to process the brightly colored villa. The made up and tanned people inside of it, who looked so vastly different from the outside. They looked like dolls.

He watched the whole season in one go, not bothering to pause as he padded off to the bathroom or tossed the half-eaten food on his counter. When he reached the last episode, he couldn’t recall a single thing he’d watched.

The light outside the window was a dusty blue, signifying either the start of new morning or the slow descent into darkness. He didn’t much care which it was. He exited back to the menu, and re-selected Episode 1. This time he sat, rooted to the spot, scanning the screen for any hints, anything he might’ve missed.

She was just as, if not more, brilliant on screen. Her smile was infectious, as she easily befriended everyone in the villa. Even Ibrahim, who came off far more reserved with editing, sat with her on the terrace and confided about his insecurities. Bobby hadn’t realized she had this exchange.

But half of the scenes he hadn’t noticed while in the villa. Instead of revealing her to be a snake, which he secretly had been hoping for, rewatching was only solidifying her as more of an individual person in his mind. An individual person who was amazing. She wasn’t just some projection of everything good he wanted out of the world- she was right there, giggling with Priya not two hours after she’d stolen MC’s partner. She was right there gently pushing both Hope and Noah to think about what they want and try to resolve their arguments regardless. She was right there, with her arm around Jo quietly suggesting they consider Shannon’s point of view. She was real and seemed so taken with him by the final recoupling. He couldn’t even be embarrassed about their intimate moment or scandalized by how much the editors left in, because it was proof. She was real and she did those things with him and they loved each other.

She was gorgeous and kind and far more witty than he realized. He remembered her laughing along to all of his bants, but couldn’t remember any of the puns she’d thrown his way. Maybe he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

And then, suddenly, it all clicked. He hadn’t seen this coming because it wasn’t something she’d been planning. It was his fault. She could tell he wasn’t paying enough attention to her, that he was desperately playing ‘villa funny man’ to fluff his own ego instead of love her like she needed. She was everything he wanted and more, but he didn’t even have the decency to realize it.

Instead of crying at that realization, he instead just nodded silent. It made sense, and felt like what he’d always known was finally explicit. Somewhere into his third rewatch he was mindlessly getting up and straightening the throw blankets and pillows that had become his bed.

The molding food in the kitchen got thrown away, the tables wiped down. He pulled the windows open and finally looked at his phone closely, resolving to address the excessive notifications later.

About two hours into deep cleaning, when he was rolling out the vacuum for the first time in months, it dawned on him what he was doing. He was cleaning for MC to come over.

Just as real and correct as his realization had seemed, so too did the inevitability of her presence. He didn’t have to make peace with it- he simply knew it was going to happen. In time he’d grow excited about it, but for now, he simply accepted it.

**  
**  


He hadn’t been in such a public place since… Well since before the show. He wasn’t conscious of how much of a homebody he’d become since then. Rather than hitting up the bars with friends or planning game nights and dinner parties, he’d just go directly from work home. Now that he was pondering it, it irritated him that his friends hadn’t taken up the ‘event coordinator’ helm and at least tried to get him to come out. Or maybe they had, but the world was stuck feeling much smaller, much quieter than he remembered it being. Maybe that was her fault, maybe it wasn’t.

Bobby was entirely unprepared when a gaggle of young girls, he guessed to be around 16, shyly walked over and asked if he was “Bobby McKenzi from Love Island.” He stammered out a yes, blushing profusely, and they giggled and elbowed each other. He awkwardly stood for a picture, smiling tightly, and didn’t really respond when they sheepishly asked questions and then meandered away.

And then she was there. He couldn’t even say with certainty that he noticed the train pull in or the doors open, but all of the sudden she was there and it felt like the platform had gotten brighter. She pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head and smiled.

In that moment, with her smile and eyes on him, everything was okay. He wasn’t upset or sad. The tired that had been leaching out of his bones for months suddenly wicked away as he remembered what happy felt like. MC took two steps forward before being yanked back by her suitcase, which was caught in a grate. She turned, pulling at it, and he broke into a sprint.

She hardly had time to turn around before he was pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair.

She said something but he didn’t care to hear, the blood pounding in his head and thoughts rattling around in his brain. When he pulled away he couldn’t stop smiling at her. She laughed and kissed his cheek, “how are you?”

He didn’t respond, instead leaving his hands on her shoulders and just regarding her.

She looked so good, better than he remembered. Her hair had been cut and highlighted since the show, it now seemed to radiate the sunlight instead of just reflecting it. She’d gotten slightly less tan, but he thought it suited her, and above all she just glowed.

“I missed you,” he managed, before pulling her into a tight hug again. He half worried that if he didn’t hold her closely enough she’d disintegrate into thin air.

This time MC was the one who pulled back, beaming at him again before glancing over his shoulder. She kissed his other cheek, holding his face gently.

“It’s good to see you too.” She smiled and hugged him again before pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of the two of them. He grinned and pulled her closer, walking on air.

At some point they were walking back to his car. Or, rather, MC had turned him and was ushering him onwards as he awkwardly followed her lead, despite her having no idea where he parked. He didn’t notice the group of teenagers snapping pictures. Maybe he should have, with the way MC was angling her body towards them as she walked.

She was sitting in his car. Despite kissing, saying ‘I love you’, and even doing bits on national television, this felt far more intimate than anything they’d ever done. It felt real. They were finally just two people, sitting in a car, awkwardly not wanting to choose the restaurant. Or so he thought they were.

“Could we just go back to your apartment?” MC asked, glancing over at him before pulling her shades back down. His lips quirked up in response, “eager much?” he quipped.

She laughed, and he couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not, and then said, “I just am so tired of our relationship being for the public. I’d love to just be one on one and talk.”

That’s how he found her perched on his couch, him awkwardly sitting partially in the middle. He’d sat down expecting her to sit next to him at the very least, but she’d chosen to perch on the arm rest instead.

“This is weird,” he chuckled, “acting like we’re strangers and that this is some kind of a first date. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve seen your tattoo-”

“I’m not trying to make it weird.”

“Never said you were,” he shrugged, looking up at her. There hadn’t been this tension before, like she was guarding something. He just wanted to go back in time and see her smile again.

She was silent for a few minutes, looking around his living room and out the window and everywhere except his face. She finally spoke, still staring out the window.

“It kind of hurt that you said I was lying. I see where you’re coming from but… I don’t really want it to be true. I didn’t lie, not about the important things.”

He frowned, somewhat taken aback, “what did you lie about?”

She only responded with a shrug, glancing back at him before fixing her gaze back onto the sidewalk outside.

“I’ll start then. I’m sorry. I feel like I didn’t appreciate you enough- I had no idea how much legwork you were putting in to keep the girls happy with one another. I didn’t even know that Rocco- well. You really earned everyone’s respect. I was so focused on how much I loved you that I didn’t see how everyone else loved you. You were an amazing friend to everyone in there.”

She half smiled, still not looking at him.

“And I know I shouldn’t have taken you for granted as much as I did. You’re funny and smart and kind and maybe I wasn’t as intimidated as I should’ve been-”

“Oh don’t do that.”

He paused for a moment, surprised again, “don’t… Don’t do what?”

She sighed dramatically and looked down, picking at her nails in her lap. “Make this harder than it has to be. I don’t want to feel like the bad guy.”

“Well you’re not saying anything, you’re just sitting there being cryptic and it’s how I feel-”

“I thought we were on the same page,” she turned suddenly to face him, with something unreadable in her face. “Or at least I hoped we were. I wanted so badly for the cameras to all turn off and us both to actually have this silent agreement that I thought we had. I guess I kind of just projected but- Come on, Bobby.”

He’d crossed his arms and started staring at her, hard. “Come on what? You’re not explaining yourself.”

“I’m trying! I thought you were playing the game too, okay?! I thought you picked me because you kinda got the sense I was the audience favorite!”

“Picked you!? Picked you?! MC I loved you! Are you saying-”

“Oh come on- you just happened to fall in love with the girl who happened to be trending on twitter? Be real, Bobby.”

“I am!” He was hurt and confused; how did this backslide so quickly? “I fell in love with you for the same reason everyone else did! You were kind to everyone and put up with so much-”

“So much bullshit. Way more than I would have if the whole country wouldn’t have been watching ready to cancel me for throwing hands.”

“-to try and ensure- What!?! So it was all just a front?!”

“No, definitely not all of it. I was just on my best behavior- I think everyone was!”

“Not everyone’s being all ‘I played the game’ afterwards!”

“Come on, Bobby! We won! I thought that’s what you wanted! That’s why we were all there!”

He was yelling now, “don’t rope me in with that! You don’t know what I wanted! I wanted you- I wanted us! I still want us!”

“How was I supposed to know that?! It’s not like we could have a candid conversation with the cameras rolling!”

“That’s on you! Everything I said to you was true!” His voice suddenly broke and he got quieter, feeling the tears rising in the back of his throat, “everything. I thought I had found my future wife and you never indicated that you weren’t into me…”

She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to match his intensity. She was just looking to get out of this conversation with as little confrontation as possible.

“I was into you, Bobby. In the moment. It was fun, I wouldn’t take back the summer, I just…” She sighed deeply, looked at him struggling not to cry, and looked away.

They were both silent for a few minutes.

“So what? In the moment you had fun? Why did you say all of those things to me if it was just a bit of fun?” He muttered, starting to fidget as he swallowed back the frog in his throat.

“I… I wanted to win, Bobby.”

He grimaced. There it was. He was just a pawn for her, a cutout of a man that anyone would’ve filled to get her where she needed to go. He only got the privilege of being on the receiving end of her warmth because she deigned to let him, because there was no one better. 

He should’ve seen it coming, someone as lovely as her doesn’t just fall for someone like him. Of course. Of course of course of course.

“So what? Lucas wanted you. Noah wanted you, Gary wanted you. You could’ve picked anyone.”

“I didn’t- Gary wanted me? That’s not- Beside the point. I wanted you.”

“Why? Because you wanted to hurt me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you Bobby! I wanted to win. It wasn’t personal… You were exactly the kind of guy who I could win with.”

“Ah yeah,” he quipped bitterly, “the game about building personal connections and relationships with people wasn’t personal. So I guess all your couplings with the other guys was to what, gauge their potential to win?”

“No. I knew I wanted you from the start.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” at this point, he was bordering on petulant. But he was hurt. Hurt and increasingly angry. 

“Don’t you see, Bobby? That was the point. If we coupled in the beginning just like Noah and Hope we wouldn’t have won. We had to create a story for the audience.”

“What was the fucking story, MC? You string me along and then fucking break me?”

“Don’t be so dramatic! I didn’t break you! I didn’t string you along! Well I- I always intended on finishing the game with you. We just had to establish you as an underdog. Which you did wonderfully, you’re a really likable guy. The world wanted you to find someone, and then I just so happened to be your best friend who kept not clicking with the other guys. Why? Because the right one was in front of me all along. People love those kinds of stories, Bobby. We had to make good television to win!”

“This isn’t a fucking rom com, MC. I actually loved you.”

“And I think I did too! It was genuinely a fun summer,” she moved to put her hand on his shoulder and he angrily shrugged her off, standing up. She didn’t shrink back, just looked up at him sadly.

“That’s something I’ve been struggling with, since leaving I mean. How much of it was real and how much of it was creating a character the audience would like. I mean, I was mostly me. I just… Well you know, I don’t really like Rocco or Hope very much. But I couldn’t be bitchy to them-”

“What, do you secretly hate Priya and Chelsea too,” he scoffed.

“Absolutely not. Those two are the best friends I’ve ever made. Priya and I have talked about it since too, and she did the same thing- trying to figure out what the audience would support. She thought they’d root for her in Operation Nope because honestly Nope was just annoying…”

He glared at her in silence for a moment until she realized she was rambling. She looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“That’s neither here nor there. Listen, Bobby, I’m genuinely sorry you caught feelings. I shouldn’t have assumed you were playing the game as hard as we were. It just… There were times where it felt too good to be real, y’know? Like how hard you pined, the looks you constantly shot the cameras… I thought you were hamming it up. Alex did too! He kept telling me to reign it in, that it wasn’t believable and they were going to get accused of fixing the game!”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This couldn’t be happening, it hardly felt real.

“For what it’s worth, I liked you a lot and wouldn’t take any of it back. It was fun, while it lasted, in the context of the villa. But you want so many things that I don’t, Bobby. You want the kids and the house and the yard- and that’s fine I’m not saying it’s wrong or bad but… It’s not me.”

“You said it was you.”

“Well yeah, the world would hate me if I said ‘I’m in my 20s, I want my modelling career to take off so I can travel and make money’. Just look at what they’re saying about Hope- people fucking hate her just for being honest about not wanting to be a mom.” 

“So what, you just picked the most apple-pie heartwarming backstory and got me to believe it?”

“I mean, I guess. I do want kids, just not for a decade or so. And for now… I want to be able to play the field and meet new people, you know? I guess those were the only lies I told you, and they were only because the cameras were rolling!”

“Like that makes it better.”

“Bobby, you have every right to be hurt. I just… Try to see where I’m coming from? Who goes on a reality TV show to find the love of their life? I needed some exposure to start booking bigger gigs, and if you can create a cult of personality where celebrities and photographers already like you, then you’ve got a foot in the door.”

“And 50k in your pocket.”

“Don’t even! You got your 25k!”

“It wasn’t about the money, MC! I’d give it all back if I could undo this all!”

“You don’t get it! There are things way more important than a silly 2 month old relationship! I don’t have opportunities like this! I grew up poor. Do you know how much of being a model is knowing people and being in the right place at the right time?!”

“And you were willing to trample me in the process.”

“I didn’t victimize you, Bobby. You were never entitled to a long-term relationship. We had a good time, we made some memories. It’s time to move on.”

He had no retort for that. Just like that, she wanted to move on. Pretend everything they did never mattered. Maybe it never did.

He didn’t say anything for a bit, mind racing, simmering. She finally stood up.

“Bobby. I know you’re hurting right now. But please… Like I said, I thought you were playing along too. If I’d have known this was going to hurt you so badly, maybe I would’ve picked Gary.”

He sneered and angrily wiped a tear, staring at the floor. One tear gave way to another which gave way to another, and he was silently crying. Again.

MC sighed. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. I just…” She paused.

She turned from him and walked into the kitchen to pick up her purse. Pausing to look at the champagne bottle he’d put in ice when he’d clearly been expecting a different outcome, she sighed sadly again. Before heading out she peeked back into the living room. Bobby was still standing precisely where she’d left him, but he now covered his face and shook silently.

“I hate to- I hate to do this. I just… I know it’s not like you but- Bobby please don’t say anything on instagram or anything. This is my shot, I finally have people booking me and reaching out. I cancelled a gig just to be here and apologize in person. Our friendship is still important to me, as much as it seems like it’s not…”

She bit her lip, watching for a reaction or the lack thereof. 

“Just promise me you’re not going to like, try to expose me or whatever? Please?”

He slowly dropped his hands and looked over at her, tears still running down his cheeks. He was almost in awe. That was what she cared about, in this moment, was getting exposed for what she successfully did. 

“I’m not gonna say shit.” He spat out at her. “You wanted this all so much, fucking enjoy it.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’re going to be okay. You’ll find someone who’s ready to settle down and this will all seem like a distant memory.”

He kept his promise. Even when she posted the picture of the two of them at the train station with the caption “visiting my boo, thanks for having me over, love <3”, he kept his promise. He still scrolled through the endless replies of fans excitedly gushing over “omg so cute!!” “yes yes YES our faves are back!” “OTP” and angrily made some over-kneaded bread, but he didn’t say anything.

When she periodically liked his business tweets, he didn’t say anything, even though her pretending that everything was fine and that they were doing long-distance made bile rise in his throat. 

He stopped following her so closely as the months went on, and only saw her comment “It’s been really hard, we’re taking a break. Hope you all still support us <3 <3 <3” because Rahim texted him trying to comfort him. When he didn’t know what Rahim was alluding to, the linked instagram comment under a fan’s comment that “the two of you haven’t been together in months” made his blood boil. Still, he kept silent. 

As she started gaining more notoriety, hanging out with well known celebrities, Priya and Chelsea popped up on yachts and private planes across her feed. He couldn’t help but resent MC for taking away genuine friends- he and Priya had always gotten along so well. But now it felt like he was iced out, not allowed to comment and certainly not allowed to reach out. 

The last straw was when she trended after a photo of her in a bikini hanging off some football player went viral. He blocked her, half wanting her fans to erupt in conspiracy theories and shock.

Hardly anyone noticed. Of course they didn’t. She’d become much bigger than them, than as half of a couple that won Love Island. She was MC, the model, the instagram influencer, the relatable celebrity on twitter with the pithy comebacks. She was so over ‘them’ that he’d be willing to bet she hardly ever thought of him. Of them. Of the future they could have had. Of the future she’d all but promised him. 

But Bobby couldn’t seem to get past it. 


End file.
